


To Stand Up

by NeoDiji



Series: Blackmail [5]
Category: Code Geass
Genre: Friendship, Healing, Injury Recovery, M/M, Past Injuries Referenced, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoDiji/pseuds/NeoDiji
Summary: A typical day in the life of healing for Lelouch vi Britannia after the horrendous hate crime attack -- with the addition of a monumental step forward in his recovery process.
Relationships: Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia
Series: Blackmail [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/542440
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	To Stand Up

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Code Geass or make profit from writing this fanfiction.
> 
> This is set between the last chapter of _Blackmail Gone Wrong_ and the epilogue.
> 
> I always wanted to focus more on the healing and recovery process, and while those aspects did make appearances in the main series, a lot of it was overshadowed by Code Geass plot elements. The series just felt "incomplete" without this in-depth insight into how Lelouch's injuries affected the smallest bits of everyday life that are often taken for granted by abled people.
> 
> As a sidenote, I do have experience in occupational therapy so some of this is personally familiar -- though I admit I've never worked with a patient who had both legs broken at once. This is set further down the recovery process for obvious reasons.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this window into how Lelouch's daily life changed.

Lelouch’s eyes opened to the blaring of the alarm on his cell phone beneath his pillow.

Groggily, he turned it off and almost went back to sleep. His days were filled with an uncomfortable amount of reliance on other people to perform basic tasks, and he’d almost rather sleep through the long stages of his healing until he could gain back his legendary independence.

But that wasn’t how it worked.

He had to earn that day. He’d _chosen_ to earn that day. He had to work to rebuild his strength with stretches and exercises through enduring grueling physical and occupational therapy, undergo multiple surgeries on his legs, partake in mental health sessions…

Groaning, Lelouch clapped. At once, the clap detection lights recently installed in his bedroom blazed to life. It was amazing what kinds of technology existed in the modern era. Though Lelouch couldn’t walk over to the lamp on his desk five feet away, he could clap just fine and boom! A slice of independence, literally back in his hands.

It was amazing how what was “convenient” or “cool” for some was “essential” for him.

Reaching for the slim hand mirror he’d stashed under his mattress, Lelouch performed the first of his daily rituals to check for pressure sores. Because he spent his time either in bed or a wheelchair, his skin was at constant risk of tissue breakdown. Luckily, because he’d spent so many years taking care of Nunnally, Lelouch knew to change his position often to relieve pressure and prevent pressure sores from forming or worsening. Today, like usual, he was in the all clear. He let out a weak sigh of relief. Life was hard enough these days without the added stress of severe skin injury.

Just as he was finishing rubbing moisture barrier creams into his skin, Suzaku appeared in the doorway.

“Good morning, my prince.”

Lelouch laughed lightly, gently pushing himself into a seated position on the edge of the bed. Suzaku always rose before Lelouch these days. “Good morning to you, my knight.”

“Are you ready?”

Lelouch nodded, tugging his wheelchair a little closer to the edge of the bed for an easier transfer. He lifted the closer wheelchair armrest, getting it out of his way, and then reached over to grasp the far armrest. He grit his teeth, waiting. Next came the part he didn’t like—the part where he needed help to move from one surface to another, just because he couldn’t bear weight on his lower extremities and because his arms, strong as they were, could not hold up his body long enough for the action to occur. Holding his breath, he let Suzaku help him into the wheelchair. “Thank you.”

Suzaku shook his head, his expression fond. “You don’t have to thank me. You know I’m always here for you.”

Lelouch held onto the bitterness for a moment before exhaling it out, leaving him free to offer his boyfriend a genuine smile. “I know, but I’m going to say it anyway.”

Suzaku laughed, standing back to let Lelouch manipulate his own wheelchair. “They’re your words, Lelouch. Use them however you want.”

“You know I do,” Lelouch said, letting down the wheelchair armrest again now that he’d been scooched over. Unlocking the brakes on his wheelchair, he started rolling himself to the large bathroom. Luckily, the bathroom had already been outfitted for wheelchair users because of Nunnally. Again, Lelouch inwardly groaned as Suzaku moved him from the wheelchair to the toilet before leaving him to do what he needed in privacy—a simple respect that Lelouch had always taken for granted before his multiple stays in the hospital, with all kinds of medical professionals up in his business.

Suzaku checked on him a few minutes later, helping Lelouch transfer from the toilet to a shower seat.

Lelouch smiled, able to undress himself with barely any assistance. Though he’d needed help getting over the lip of the tub, now that he was on the shower seat, he could clean himself completely independently. They’d installed a hanging column of shelves inside the shower, arranging everything for simple and easy access. There was soap, shampoo, conditioner, wash cloths, a comb, a brush, and even his toothbrush and toothpaste, all within reach. Just like the shower controls, complete with a long-handled nozzle to help him spray water wherever he needed. The set-up was perfect, and Lelouch relished the warm wave of joy coursing through his veins at being able to complete all his hygiene needs by himself. Yet again, those simple technology tools along with environmental modification truly made a difference in his quality of life.

On autopilot, he began the process of washing himself. The routine was soothing, and his hands moved smoothly with his growing confidence. He relaxed into the warm water, letting it wash away his worries for the moment as he thought of the next speech he’d give at his upcoming rally. While some of the world remained problematic, his story had reached the hearts of millions. Still planning his words, he bent over to reach his feet.

Other people had to endure several safety precautions. People with hip or spine issues could not bend at the waist, lift a certain number of pounds, or twist their torsos. Lelouch was lucky. He was allowed to do all those things. It was something his counselor and occupational therapist kept reminding him—to be grateful for what he _did_ have. For what he _could_ do. And to remember that he was healing every day, and that the range of gratitude would grow.

The only thing Lelouch needed to worry about was that he didn’t put more than fifty percent of his weight on his left leg, and no more weight on his right leg than he could tolerate. And even considering those weight-bearing statuses, he’d already come so far.

Reluctantly, Lelouch turned off the water. “I’m done!” he called out, knowing either Suzaku or Sayoko would come any moment.

He was lucky to have such support, even though he’d rather not need it.

Where would he be without them?

Sayoko arrived then, handing Lelouch a dry towel and helping him get back into his wheelchair. “Breakfast, my lord?”

Lelouch nodded as he dried and dressed himself, needing Sayoko’s help only to pull underwear and large, loose-fitting pants over his hips. Nutrition was important for healing, now more than ever. “Yes, breakfast sounds delightful.”

At least he could eat at the table by himself, though he missed the freedom of preparing his own meals.

At least he could see what he ate, unlike how Nunnally had endured years of blindness on top of her other crippling injuries.

“Good morning, Nunnally,” he said, drinking some milk for calcium. He took his required vitamins and supplements without protest. “How was your night?”

Nunnally’s whole body seemed to perk up at Lelouch’s attention. “Fine, big brother. And you?”

Lelouch grinned as he stabbed some eggs. “Fine as well. I have a nice body pillow.”

Across from him, Suzaku blushed and played with the food on his plate.

Breakfast went smoothly, all things considered.

With breakfast done, Lelouch groaned and buried his head in his arms on the table—the only weakness he’d allow himself. Dread crawled through every cell. “I hate my exercises,” he hissed, knowing that everyone already knew but also knowing that them putting up with his constant complaints was part of the package.

“I’ll do my exercises with you,” Nunnally offered, the only one to truly understand his plight.

Lelouch let the smile show in his voice. “Thank you, little sister.”

-+-

The Student Council arrived just as Lelouch started his exercise regimen, lying on his bed beside Nunnally and performing ankle pumps back and forth to stimulate his muscles and improve blood circulation in his healing legs. “Hi, everyone.”

Milly grinned and flopped on the floor, dragging Shirley and Kallen with her. “We’re here for you, Lelouch!”

Rivalz leaned against the wall, offering a broad smile. “Yeah, man, we know you got this!”

Nina nodded silently, though her presence alone showed her personal progress.

Withholding a groan, Lelouch finished his ankle pumps and pressed the back of his knees against his bed, holding the stretched position for several seconds. “Thank you, everyone.” They arrived most days during his most-hated aspect of the active recovery process, knowing his routine.

They’d made his routine part of theirs. The administrators at Ashford Academy encouraged this, letting the Student Council skip class so they could support Lelouch.

They really were the best friends he could ever ask for, and his heart melted at their timely devotion.

Listening to their idle gossip, Lelouch moved on to heel slides to improve his legs’ range of motion. He slid his heels back to touch his buttocks before sliding them forward again, as far as they could go. The exercises were getting harder, but he knew each one was meant to make his legs stronger. Finishing his repetitions, he automatically moved on to sliding one leg to the side, away from his body and back to the starting position, again to increase his range of motion and stabilize his legs. It was these little things that would help him move on to something bigger.

“Chloe got a new boyfriend,” Shirley chirped, catching Lelouch’s eye. “He’s a Japanese boy she met at one of the rallies. His name is—what was it? Oh yes, Akiho. Adachi Akiho.”

Lelouch raised his eyebrow along with his right heel. “Chloe Beck?”

Milly giggled. “Yeah. I guess Suzaku really made an impact on her, huh?”

Lelouch frowned at the exertion as he held his raised lower leg off the bed, wiping sweat from his brow. “He’s got to be better for her than Corbin Dixon.”

Rivalz snorted, arms folded across his chest. “Dude, a trash bag of rancid meat would be better for her than Corbin Dixon.”

Lelouch nodded, sighing in relief as he let his leg rest. “That’s true. Have you met this guy yet?”

Kallen nodded, her eyes shining. “He seems like he worships the ground she walks on.”

“Kind of like Suzaku with you,” Shirley said, before gasping and covering her mouth with her hands. “Sorry, Lelou, I wasn’t thinking!”

Lelouch grunted, forcing himself to lift his leg again for the next round of repetitions.

“I worship Lelouch no matter what,” Suzaku said with a low chuckle, coming into the bedroom with a bottle of water and wet wash cloths. “Who else are we talking about?”

“Chloe Beck’s new boyfriend, Adachi Akiho,” Milly said, bringing Suzaku up to speed. “They’re really cute together.”

Suzaku beamed as if this was the best news he’d heard in forever. “Really? That’s great!”

Lelouch hissed as he started the same exercises with his left leg—his worse leg. “Shit.”

“You’re doing wonderful, my prince,” Suzaku said, moving to brush Lelouch’s bangs off his sweaty forehead. “You’re making yourself stronger.”

Stiffly, Lelouch nodded and tuned out his friends’ chatter. It was getting harder to maintain his performance, even with the daily home exercise regimen. He was breathing hard now, feeling overheated. For a moment, he wished he could do his aquatics exercises in the pool—but those weren’t scheduled until tomorrow.

Nunnally made this look so damn easy! It wasn’t fair!

With a groan, Lelouch let his body fall limp. “I’m fucking done,” he bit out between clenched teeth, pounding the bed with a fist for emphasis. It did little to soothe his frustration.

Milly and Kallen exchanged a worried glance, and Shirley sent a tentative smile Lelouch’s way. “You made it though!”

“Yeah, and so what?!” Lelouch snapped, glaring at his boyfriend, at his friends, even at his sister. Frustration coursed hotter and hotter through his blood. “Every day it’s the same damn fucking thing, and I’m still bedbound or wheelchair-bound! This is no kind of life!”

Nunnally shifted uncomfortably beside him on the bed.

“Well, it’s not!” Lelouch yelled, his shoulders curving as he withdrew into himself. “I hate this! I HATE THIS!”

Rivalz winced. “Lelouch, it’s gonna be o—”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s gonna be okay!” Lelouch interrupted, his face twisting with rage. “You don’t know what it’s like! You’ve never had to suffer like this! YOU DON’T GET A SAY!”

Rivalz backed off, hands held high in surrender. “I get it. You’re right.”

“I’M ALWAYS RIGHT!”

The Student Council glanced among themselves, but no one left. Not even Nina, who was pressing herself against the wall next to Rivalz.

“My prince,” Suzaku said slowly, reaching for Lelouch’s hand. “They’re just trying to help.”

“THEY ARE NOT HELPING!”

Milly cleared her throat. “Then how _can_ we best help you, Lelouch?”

At her soft words, Lelouch winced as a wave of shame crested over him. He’d never lost control before the hate crime, but now he was so full of additional pain that it exploded out of him in unexpected outbursts. And his poor friends bore the brunt of it. Looking to the floor, he mumbled, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

Everyone on the Council talked over each other as they rushed to reassure him it was all right, that they understood, that he was entitled to his feelings, that he needed to release his emotions for the sake of his well-being…

Lelouch sighed, daring to look them each in the eye. “It’s still not fair to you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Milly said, literally waving it off. “Do you want us to stay for the rest of your exercises?”

Lelouch groaned at the reminder. Even though he’d finished the most important parts of his exercise program, he still had to work his upper body to maintain what strength and flexibility he had left. Luckily, his arm and torso exercises were more annoying than stressful or painful. Chewing his lip, he finally said, “You can stay. If you want.”

Shirley leaned forward and spoke for everyone. “Of course we want to.”

Lelouch sighed and pushed himself into a seated position on his bed, careful not to mess up Nunnally’s stretches. “I’m sorry, little sister,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean—”

“You did,” Nunnally corrected him with an understanding smile, “but it’s okay. I know you want to be independent again, to be in control of your life like before.”

Lelouch smiled, his heart overflowing with love for his little sister.

Suzaku—too happily, in Lelouch’s opinion—brought over Lelouch’s one-pound weights.

With a glare, Lelouch snatched the weights, cringed as he got used to holding them up, and began his next set of exercises, starting with bicep curls. “I hate this,” he growled.

No one responded, letting him stew in his hate.

Grateful for the opportunity, Lelouch allowed himself to sink into the red-black darkness. He imagined throwing his weights at Corbin Dixon’s head. He imagined _running_ over to Dixon’s chained form in the dungeons and stabbing him—

“Breathe,” Suzaku coached, lightly touching Lelouch’s shoulder. “You have to breathe, Lelouch.”

Lelouch let out a longsuffering breath. The last time he’d seen Corbin Dixon, with Suzaku’s and Jeremiah’s support, Lelouch had mostly stopped caring about Corbin Dixon. But during his exercises, it helped him focus until the end to think up increasingly disturbing revenge tactics—even though they’d never see the light of day. In a twisted way, thinking of Corbin Dixon lit fire to his veins, giving him the strength to finish his draining exercises and get better, in spite of what Dixon had done, _to_ spite Dixon for how Lelouch was healing and living his best life even after everything he’d suffered. He breathed.

Milly, Kallen, Shirley, Rivalz, and Nina stuck by him throughout it all.

Not to mention Nunnally.

Not to mention _Suzaku_.

Lelouch moved on, twisting from side to side, reaching up, reaching forward. He grasped the future in his hands.

“I’m done,” he finally announced, interrupting the Council’s conversation about the next Ashford Academy school festival.

Life went on.

Lelouch would not let it go on without him.

-+-

Every morning at eleven o’clock, someone from Lelouch’s medical team would come to visit. There were so many specialists assigned to his case that even Lelouch had trouble keeping them all straight sometimes. There was Dr. Roberts, his psychiatrist, and a team of counselors working with him. There was his physical therapist (Dr. Jerk) and occupational therapist (Dr. Jerk II), often working together to help Lelouch adapt to his current reality. A nutritionist. A team of orthopedic nurses. And lately, thanks to his multiple leg surgeries, his orthopedic surgeon.

Today, Lelouch’s surgeon arrived to check on his healing scar tissue from his latest surgery.

Normally Lelouch would have to go to appointments, but being the Eleventh Prince of the Empire did have some perks.

The surgeon deemed him as healing well, within expectation, and left before lunch.

It was, like always, a long morning.

-+-

After lunch, Lelouch indulged in some much needed leisure time. It helped that most of his hobbies were accessible despite his limited mobility. He could still read. Still play chess. Play darts. Travel. Still plan his rallies. Some afternoons he actually _held_ a rally. Research. Surf the web. Meet with his team of teachers. Study. Do homework. Talk to others. Pet Arthur. Fold paper cranes with his sister. Watch television. Snuggle his boyfriend. There were lots of things he could do. Things he _enjoyed_ doing.

(He never thought he’d enjoy the mundane routine of schoolwork, but here he was. It just helped him feel _normal_.)

Even before the hate crime, Lelouch had never been a fan of high levels of physical activity.

And honestly, he always _had_ been looking for excuses to skip gym. (Before the physical gym had burned down in a glorious blaze of justice.)

Lelouch had so many things going for him, and he was healing well—even though it seemed his very bones ached with the slowness of it all. (His bones ached anyway, but this was something different—something deep within himself.)

Today he indulged in some rereading of the classics, grateful for the peace and quiet. Warm sunshine slanted across his bedroom floor. Arthur was purring, curled up on his bedroom couch right in a patch of sunbeam. It was a pleasant, lazy afternoon. As Lelouch read, thoughts trickled through his mind of how he’d stood up against oppression even while confined to a wheelchair. His rallies were growing more successful. The world was changing, and he’d played a part. His condition had not limited his influence. He was inspiration incarnate.

He still wanted to do more.

Bored, he flung _Hamlet_ aside and stared at the walker his surgeon had left for him.

Today, Lelouch had been granted a less restrictive weight-bearing status.

The walker beckoned him.

 _Use me_ , it seemed to say. _I will help you_.

Cocking his head, Lelouch slowly rolled closer until his knees fit inside the walker’s frame. Instinctively, he locked the brakes on his wheelchair. That was the most important wheelchair safety feature he’d had drilled into his head. By now, it was second nature.

It was amazing what had become “second nature” to him since the hate crime.

What had become “important” in the wake of his new life. (And he wasn’t talking about becoming a Code-Bearer.)

Lelouch swallowed heavily. He knew he was supposed to wait for a medical professional before attempting what he wanted to do, but there were some things he just had to try on his own. There were things he had to do for himself— _by_ himself. There would be no waiting. No stopping him.

Slowly, with rasping breaths, Lelouch scooted himself to the edge of his wheelchair seat—

As he’d been taught in therapy, suddenly grateful for the reaching exercises he’d dedicatedly done over the past few months, he leaned forward—

Tingles whooshed down his spine, chilling him from the inside out, as he almost-robotically pushed himself up—

He was moving—

His thoughts exploded into silence, narrowing down to one observation: The wheelchair was beneath him for the first time in months, air swirling between him and the seat—

Head swimming, still in a bit of a crouch, his hands one by one clutched the walker instead—

Throat tight, with the walker’s support, he straightened—

He was up!

Lelouch swayed a moment before getting himself under control, putting more weight on his stronger right leg. Sweat dotted his brow, slid down the back of his neck. His heart pounded in his ears like the echoes of a rally speech. He blinked sweat out of his eyes. From his newly-regained vantage point, his room looked so familiar, so right, so _home_. His gaze grew misty just from looking down and seeing his bed at waist-level once more. Beautiful. He grasped the walker so hard his hands started to hurt from the pressure, but at least—

“Suzaku!” Lelouch yelled suddenly as understanding slammed him, exhilaration flooding through every pore of his recovering body. He couldn’t believe what he was doing. It was his most inspiring miracle yet. “Suzaku, come quick!”

It took two seconds for Suzaku to skid into Lelouch’s bedroom, looking like he expected the worst, his face drawn tight with worry. “What’s wr—LELOUCH!” He stopped in his tracks, wonder dawning on his face as slow and bright as a sunrise. “Y-you’re standing!”

Lelouch nodded jerkily, afraid that the miracle would stop if he spoke anymore.

“This is…I can’t believe it!”

Lelouch grinned, allowing triumph to rush through his upright form like a stadium of cheers. Today had been his new ordinary—until now. Standing was just the first step, but it was such a monumental one that it deserved to be celebrated in the same fashion as when Japan regained her freedom.

The seconds ticked by, and Lelouch sweated more, starting to feel dizzy from the now-strange position. His head swam. His legs shook from weakness, the shakiness slowly enveloping his entire body until he almost buckled. Slowly, he started to sit and reach back for his wheelchair, using it to guide his movement. The ‘11’ scar on his butt burned a little from the friction as he repositioned himself, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Lelouch looked between his walker and his boyfriend, still stunned. “I stood.”

“You did,” Suzaku agreed, tears in his eyes. “Oh, Lelouch!”

“You saw me,” Lelouch said quickly, now hoping he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. It was too incredible.

Suzaku nodded, wiping at his tears, as he knelt by Lelouch. “I did. You—you did amazing, my prince. I’m so proud of you.”

Lelouch hauled Suzaku in for a kiss, feeling his own euphoria reverberate through his boyfriend.

He’d proven he could stand.

When he got used to standing, he could start walking. Then running.

Lelouch cringed at that last thought. Well, maybe not running.

Baby steps—

Soon Lelouch would literally take those, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope I made you smile. <3


End file.
